


A Fan Of The Ink Demon

by AlexTheNonBinary



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Actually We Die Like A Non-Binary, Artist Reader, Bendy Can't Speak, Bendy Likes Kids, Bendy is mute, Bendy needs a hug, Bendy needs love, Boris is mute, Don't @ me-, Everyone Needs A Hug, Family Fluff, Fatherly Bendy, Fluff, Gen, His Mouth Can't Move What Do You Expect?, I Headcannon This, I'm A Sucker For Wholesome Family Fluff, Not In That Way You Perverted Pedophile, Reader Goes By They/Them Pronouns, Reader Needs Love, Reader Needs a Hug, Reader is a good teacher, Reader knows sign language, THIS IS NOT X READER, also reader is kinda a mom friend, aroace reader, everyone is sad, i'm desperate here, i'm so proud of this but it's getting no reads, no beta we die like men, p l e a s e r e a d t h i s, please, please read this, reader is gender-neutral, this is my first reader insert fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:01:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27132856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexTheNonBinary/pseuds/AlexTheNonBinary
Summary: When you fall down a hole after saving a mysterious man, your life falls apart more than it had before. However, soon you begin to see a lanky, inky demon following you around, and suddenly you have a goal.(Just a random idea I got while playing BatIM, family fluff.)
Relationships: Reader/Bendy (Platonic)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

Once, when you were a small child, you always loved Bendy’s show. When you heard it was cancelled, you were devastated. Now, you are a teenager without any money, because of some dirty thieves. They stole everything, your car, your money, and to top it off, they burnt down your house, which was yet to get insurance. All you had left was your bag and Bendy plush, which you held close to you. You decided to do what any other newly-homeless person would do, and began seeking shelter.

There were a few poorly looked after buildings, but one stuck out to you. “Joey Drew Studios… Wait, isn’t that where the Bendy series started?” Your speed increases as you run towards the building. You didn’t care that it was in worse condition than the other buildings around it, that’s where you wanted to stay. Even as the years went by, the little devil darlin’ always held a prominent spot in your heart, Alice didn’t hold a candle in comparison. When you got to the door, you admired the front of the building for a while, your smile stretching further as excitement fills you.

Finally, you drag your eyes away from the view and place your hand on the door. Suddenly, you feel a rumble. You pull open the door and feel your legs get covered in something room-temperature and sticky. Screams echo through the hall as a man, obviously older than you runs towards you - or the exit. He’s about to reach you when the floor falls beneath him. You run to him and grab his hand with one hand, holding the doorframe with the other. 

He looks at you with surprise, before quickly regaining sense and climbing out as best he could. You slipped slightly.  _ ‘Oh no… It’s one or the other. This man has more of a future than I do, I’ll save him. I have to.’ _ With your new resolve solidified in your mind, you jolted your arm, using the little momentum you had to spin you two around. You begin to fall, watching as the man turns around and leans down, reaching one hand out to your falling body with a look of horror on his face. You smile softly, having accepted your fate long ago as everything goes black.

_____________

You woke up. That was funny; you were sure that fall would’ve killed you. Though you have to admit, the puddle of ink that you’re sitting in is surprisingly warm and comforting. Despite that, you get up and shake off as much ink as you can before realising the bottom half of you was stained black with ink. Suddenly you remembered something.  _ ‘Bendy!’ _ You look around wildly for your plush, relaxing instantly when you see him next to you. You quickly snatched him up and cuddled him, feeling much more relaxed as he made his little squeak.

You look around the room less wildly and notice an axe leaning against a bench. On the bench was some paper and a bottle of ink. Not a sketchpad, but it would be cool nonetheless. You carefully screw the ink bottles lid on, making sure it wouldn’t leak and put it in your bag, soon following with the paper. You had never been so glad that you had so many bag pockets. You took another glance at the axe and hesitate for a moment before grabbing it.

Lifting the axe above your head, you swing it experimentally, almost knocking yourself over from overbalancing in the process. You get back on your feet - both of them - and look at the boarded-up hallway. “Well, this is a very conveniently placed axe, isn’t it?” You chuckle to yourself, slipping your Bendy plush into your drink bottle pocket, petting his head between his little horns. You were glad he was with you, he made you feel less lonely. Feeling much lighter, you begin to swing your axe through the wooden planks, something in the back of your mind making you feel uncomfortable.

Nevertheless, you continue to smash your way through the hall, feeling relieved when there were no more wooden boards. You turned the corner and suddenly realised why you felt so disturbed earlier. There was what looked to be a pentagram on the floor, a single candle at each tip of the star. Two circles were perfectly drawn out, making you feel all the more disturbed. Your curiosity got the best of you, and you lean over to see what that strange symbol in the middle was, but the axe in your hand causes you to overbalance and fall into the pentagram.

You see a machine with black ink dripping out of it being held up by chains. There’s black, then an image of a wheelchair flickers behind your eyelids. Another flash of black, and then a figure you somewhat recognise. It’s Bendy, except it’s not. He’s much taller, has ink covering his usual pie-cut eyes and looks unhealthily skinny, not too mention the ink dripping of his limbs. He looks scary, but at the same time, you have the indescribable urge to hug him. He looks like he needs a hug. You decide to find him so you can give him a hug.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is short I'm sorry-

You wake up, your head throbbing horribly. You see the axe leaning against a coffin and immediately reach for it, ignoring your mind’s questions of  _ why _ there were coffins there. You grab it and make sure your bag is secured, checking for your plush quickly. You sagged in relief when you heard the familiar squeak, breathing out a breath of air you didn’t know you were holding. You stand up, using the side of the coffin to help balance you. Shaking your head, you walk to the door, placing your hand on the handle and cringing as you feel wet ink seep through the gaps of your fingers.

The door creaks open, and you look forward, annoyed when you see nothing but wooden planks ahead of you. You swing the arm holding the axe and sigh—more destruction. Gradually, you break them and make your way through. The boards suddenly ended, and there were stairs, stairs that your clumsy butt fell because you’re just lucky like that. Thinking fas, you throw the axe onto the top of the stairs to you don’t land on it as you tumble down the stairs.

You cover your head as you roll down the stairs, struggling not to release your body from your ball as your joints smack against the edges of the stairs. After what seemed like one hundred steps, you stopped falling and spread out on the floor, catching your breath as the adrenaline slowly faded from your body. You were hurt, but you’d survive. You lay there for a few more moments before getting up and going back up the stairs for your axe. You are about to grab it when you hear a strange, goop-like shuffling and a groan that sounded like mild interest. You turn around to see an inky figure retreating behind the corner, leaving an ink path behind it.

You look at the path and notice it lead to your plush Bendy, now with a few drops of ink on it. You hop back down the stairs and pick it back up, looking at it before glancing back towards where that creature had disappeared. There was a short ink trail and then a Bendy cutout, followed by an inky hole in the wall. Something tugs at you to go inside, explore, but the flash of that scarred man’s face that shone behind your eyelids made you stop. As you walked away, you failed to notice the curious noise that came from the shadows behind the cutout you had left just moments ago.

  
  


__________

  
  


Different audio tapes gave you many different feelings, but the ones from or about someone called “Sammy Laurance” always sent shivers down your spine. There was something so… off-putting about the way he talked in his tapes, and chilling when the other tapes described how he acted. It’s like one moment he absolutely resented Bendy (You had thought that was impossible, but you guess not), and the next he was worshipping him like the demon was a god! It was so self-contradicting, you just couldn’t understand.

Anyway, you kept looking around, feeling your eyelids grow heavier and heavier as time dragged on. Eventually, you decided to sit down next to the first Bendy cutout you saw, feeling safe now you knew you were under the demon’s watchful eye. You open your bag a can of bacon soup you had seen earlier and opened it carefully with your axe. You ate slowly, enjoying the surprisingly flavourful food. Though, then again, it was the first meal you’d had for three days.

Sighing as you finished, you placed the can to the side at took at your plushie and curled into a ball, cuddling against the surprisingly warm wall. You cuddled your plush and decided to stare at the wall for a while, unsure if the fleeting smile was just a figment of your imagination or not as you felt yourself succumb to the beautiful still calmness of sleep, wondering when you’ll find the taller, lanky Bendy. Within your thoughts, you don’t notice as a slightly inky blanket is draped over you by a little devil darlin’.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oof I can’t pace a story to save my life-

You woke up surprisingly comfortable and warm. You snuggled further into the blanket and- wait, blanket? You didn’t recall ever finding a blanket. You shot up before quickly falling back down as your body was not ready for movement. You heard something behind you break and sat back up, slower this time. You turned around and noticed that you had broken the Bendy cutout that had been guarding you. Surprise quickly turned to guilt and you began apologising to the bits of painted wood and the floor.

Eventually, you stopped apologising and began piecing it back together like a puzzle. There was one last piece you needed, but you couldn’t find it. You felt your emotions well up from everything that had happened in the last week. Like the straw that broke the camel’s back, you felt your frustration and stress turn into a feeling of sadness and futility. You hiccuped a few times and soon began to sob. You curled up into a ball and cried, gratefully leaning into the uncertain hand that rubbed your back. 

You turned towards the mysterious person without looking at them and curled into their chest, not caring about the ink that dripped into your hair and onto your clothes. You curled your hand around the pale yellow suspenders and let yourself be picked up, holding your bag and new blanket at your chest. The person hummed a lullaby to you. “Sheep, sheep, sheep, it’s time for sleep. Rest your head, it’s time for bed. In the morning you may wake…”

You fall asleep unwillingly, with the person’s last words ringing in your ears. “Or in the morning…”

“You’ll be dead.”

________

  
  


When you woke up, you found you were tied to a post. You struggled against it, but you felt nothing except the too-tight ropes grinding against your ink-stained legs and shirt. A distorted voice erupted from the worn speakers attached to posts, but you couldn’t make out the words, your mind was spinning. Despite being unable to hear what the voice was saying through the speakers, you understood what was happening, you’ve read the books of the legends. Sheep were often used as sacrifices for rituals, and by the looks of the pentagram you were tied up above,  _ you _ were the sheep.

A roller door opened and the room shook around you. Suddenly you heard desperate and confused shouting come from the speakers. Angry growls were heard, along with violent cracking and banging through the speakers as the person screamed in pain, sounding almost betrayed. Whatever, that didn’t matter, they were going to kill you. You tried to convince yourself they deserved this, but you still felt kinda bad for leaving them hanging like that. Shaking your head, you escaped your bonds and grabbed your bag, which was thankfully resting against one of the wooden posts.

When you picked it up, you realised that your Bendy plush was missing. You looked around, grasping the blanket as you tried to calm yourself down. You didn’t want to leave without your plush. While there were so many around, you had had that one since you had first seen the Bendy series. You wanted  _ your _ Bendy plush, not some random one you found in the studio. You lent against the post and slid down, unaware of the Searchers making their way towards you until you suddenly began choking on ink as a semi-solid hand covering your mouth.

In your panic, you swallowed what was in your mouth and quickly grabbed your axe, turning around and swinging at the thing that was trying to suffocate you. When you hit it, it fell onto the floor, seeming to melt into it. Two more glided across the floor towards you as you shuffled back, effectively blocking yourself into a corner.  _ ‘Great, just hecking great. I’m gonna die! I’m going to die by suffocation by ink! Just my luck.’ _ You swing your axe one more time before giving up and letting the last Searcher approach you. You feel fear, but you know there’s no point in running.

The familiar inky hand covers your mouth, and your body automatically struggles against it. Your body isn’t giving up. Why won’t it give up? There’s no point in trying, you’ll die either way. Darkness etches into the corners of your vision, and you smile as your head starts to feel light. If you’re going to die, you’re going to die with a smile. That’s what Bendy would do. With the little dancing demon in mind, you relax. Your only regret was that you never got to hug that lanky version of your endearing cartoon. Oh well, better luck next life?

You wait, expecting the cold, dark clutches of death, but it never came. There was a familiar, undistorted growl and then higher-pitched grunts and squeaks and the sound of ink splashing against a wooden wall. You look up weakly and see the lanky Bendy throwing the Searchers into the walls of the room with a single gloved hand, holding something you recognise in the other.  _ ‘He’s holding my plush!’ _ You thought to yourself as you watched in bewilderment. Slowly, ignoring the violent ways the Searchers were being thrown around, you crawled to Bendy, sitting down next to him, not caring as ink soaked into your clothes.

When the tall demon had finished throwing the weaker things onto the walls, he looked back towards the corner where you had been, his head whipping around when he noticed you weren’t there. You tugged on his arm softly, grinning at him as his head flicks down to you. His body seems to relax and he gets down onto his knees, handing you your plush. It was nearly completely covered in ink, but it was  _ your _ plush, so it was fine. You took it and hugged it, before looking back at the inky demon who seemed to be retreating sadly. You ran to him on impulse and launched yourself into a hug, wrapping your ink-stained arms around Bendy’s sticky, slim body.

He seemed to jolt, feeling unsure about the action. You let go and smile at him. You felt so happy, you wanted to just hug him to death now that you’ve met him. Well, not quite to death, you didn’t want to kill your idol now, do you?

“Hi, I’m (y/n), it’s nice to meet you, Bendy! I’ve been a fan of your show since it started!” You introduced, holding your hand out for Bendy to take. After a moment of hesitation, Bendy clasped his own inky hand around yours, shaking it lightly. He grunted with what seemed to be happiness, bringing a question to your mind. “Hey, Bendy… you’ve been making noises this whole time but not really saying words… can you speak?”

Bendy shook his head slightly. You frowned, he should be able to talk! Everyone deserved the ability to communicate, whether it was a dog barking or a human speaking, their own species could understand them. Bendy didn’t  _ have _ a species he could talk with, and even if he did you weren’t sure grunts and moans counted as communicating legibly. You thought of something and stuck your hand in the air to get Bendy’s attention, “What if I teach you how to talk? Or if not I can teach you sign language!”

Bendy seemed to perk at this, nodding eagerly. You fist-pumped the air with excitement. Bendy released a low noise that sounded somewhat like a chuckle before slowly walking towards the exit, you following close behind. He came to an intersection between a door blocked by ink and a hallway with many boards barricading it. Bendy walked towards the door, and you were going to follow but he held up a hand to stop you, walking to the middle of the ink pool and submerging himself in it. You stepped forward before remembering that Bendy was  _ made _ of ink, and had walked into it purposely. 

He’d be fine.

_________________

You didn’t know how long you had waited, but it was long enough for you to begin to feel tired. Still, you waited. You believed in Bendy, you just had to wait a little longer. You lent against a wall, feeling your eyelids slowly get heavier. Just… a little… longer… You hear shuffling and jump up, swaying minimally despite your body's protests. Turning to where the noise had come from, you see a fleeting figure and some writing on the walls.  _ ‘Left, right, left, left, right, left. Wait for me at the door. Go.’ _ They were directions - and they were directions you were going to follow because you knew who wrote them.

You went back to grab your bag quickly before taking another look at the instructions. Once you had memorised them, you climb over the pieces of wood easily, picking up the axe with an ink-stained handle before you, immediately knowing who had put it there. With a smile, you follow the instructions from the previous room until you come across a door. Like you were instructed, you wait by the door. Suddenly, ink seemed to soak the walls in a cobweb-like manner, and, despite your body’s impulse to run, you rooted yourself to the floor, waiting for Bendy as you were told. You trusted him.

Bendy was just about to round the corner, when your stomach began to churn. You automatically threw your hand up to your mouth as you coughed up some of the ink you had swallowed earlier. Your body jolted and more ink rose up in your throat. You let yourself fall to your knees and leant over the floor with one hand. You began throwing up the inky masses of what you had swallowed. You saw Bendy finish rounding the corner and run towards you in alarm. He towers over you, obviously panicking and unsure what to do.

You feel tears spring to your eyes, dripping as ink seeps through the gaps of your hand. You know you didn’t swallow this much, but it’s still going. It’s covering your arm and clinging to it like some sort of outer casing, sinking into your skin and staining it permanently. Something begins to drip from your head and you feel yourself be picked up by Bendy as he walks into a saferoom. You begin to feel lightheaded and your eyes fall closed, a little bit of ink running from the corner of your mouth as you watch a bacon soup can roll in front of yourself and Bendy.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *My attempt at fluff

You wake up in something similar to that of a safe house bunker. There were little drops of ink on the floor that seemed to crowd slightly at the wall, directly in front of the clock hung there. You look around, feeling the adrenaline rush of something unknown flow through your veins. With all the excitement recently, you’re surprised you haven’t fainted from it.

Hopping up from the bed, you quickly open the door and look around. You see Bendy sitting against a wall, and… was that Boris? Okay, that’s really cool. “Hey Bendy! Hey Boris!” You smiled, waving at the two toons.

Bendy groaned a reply and Boris made a small, excited bark.  _ So, neither of them can talk? _ You thought, feeling slightly disappointed. “Anyway, Bendy, want me to teach you sign language?”

The demon nodded happily. Boris looked up in curiosity and walked towards you, pointing to the ground, as if to ask if he could sit down and learn with Bendy. You nod with a wide grin. Boris barked happily and sat down next to Bendy. You followed short and crossed your legs. “Let’s start with letters, then I’ll teach you words, ‘kay?”

____________

“Ow!” Henry grunted as he slipped and fell. He looked up and glared at the Bendy cutout before him. Why was he doing this again? Oh wait, them.

He had gone to get help for that kid that had helped him escape, but no one believed him. When he had described them, everyone he told thought he was crazy, because they - (y/n), Henry soon learned - had perished in a fire that had burned their body. He went to the graveyard where he had been told their body lies, but there was no gravestone. He checked at least three times but there was still no sign of them. Those people were lying. The kid wasn’t dead.

But they might not be alive for much longer. 

And that’s how his dumb ass ended down here. He should’ve at least brought a weapon, and not jump into a hole with nothing but a bag with a water bottle inside. He had slipped on more ink today than he ever did in all his years of working in the studio, even with the frequent pipe bursts. Groaning as he used his arms to push himself up, even as the half-dry ink acted like gum and tried to connect him to the floor, Henry shook his head with annoyance.

“This was a stupid idea, but there’s no way I can get out now. I really should’ve thought this out better.”

____________

As it turns out, both Bendy and Boris were very fast learners! Already, both of them could recite most of the alphabet with incredibly little help. In a few days, they’ll both have it memorised the way it’s going. They had even begun signing to each other excitedly, saying simple things, such as ‘hello’ and ‘so cool!’. Boris looked so happy, and, even with the ink covering his eyes, Bendy’s expression had lighted up dramatically.

You sat there, watching them with a soft smile as they conversed. Even with their happy expressions and actions, you couldn’t help but feel guilty. They were so  _ happy _ by something as simple as communicating with words rather than random gestures. Neither of them should have had their chance to speak taken from them.

“Sorry to interrupt, but we should probably all get some sleep, okay?” You said, getting up from your seat. “Do you two have places to sleep? …comfortably?”

The two males paused halfway through their nods. You sigh. “Boris, do you have any large sheets of material around?”

‘Yes,’ Boris signed. It was slow though. You quickly showed him the sign for ‘yes’ as a word and watched as he carefully signed it back to you. You nodded with a smile.

“Where is it, if I may ask?”

‘The bathroom.’

“Thank you, Boris,” You smile. Quickly heading to the bathroom and avoiding the water as best as you could (terribly), you check the draws and sure enough, there are the sheets you asked for. You left the bathroom quickly - something in there made you feel less than comfortable - and lay the sheets on the floor next to each other. You hear Boris and Bendy come up from behind you thanks to the creaking floorboards.

“I’m making some hammocks. I’d try to make something more stable, but that would be much less comfortable,” You explain as you fold the sheets and make a small hole in the end. “Boris, could you get the rope from the middle draw in the bathroom please?”

Boris nodded and quickly retrieved the desired rope. Bendy watched over your shoulder with curiosity, while Boris just sat back at his table.  _ You need to make dinner soon.  _ Taking a mental note to heat up some bacon soup later, you tie the rope through the hole you made and tighten it.

You did the same for the other sheet and then both of the hammocks were finished! You were surprised how quickly you had finished, but hey, you’re not complaining. You told the two boys to decide on a hammock to sleep in while you heat up some dinner.

The squeaky sound of material echoed in the room as the toons tried their soon-to-be beds, and you smiled. You felt glad to finally be of use to someone, over the whip you were back in school. People probably wouldn’t even go looking for you, you never meant anything to them anyway. The only people who gave a frick were your parents, but they’re dead. You feel your emotions well up again, the thoughts of your parents giving you all the love you could ask for flickering behind your eyelids.

You were freed from your thoughts as the pot began to boil. You turned the stove down and got a couple of bowls, pouring some soup into each one, forgetting about yourself.

“Bendy, Boris, food!” You call, watching as the two ink characters turn their heads towards you, quickly getting up and sitting at Boris’ table. You smile and put a bowl in front of each of the two, trying not to cringe as they gobbled it up in a less than polite way. Whatever, they haven’t been around people, it’s not their fault that they don’t know how to use cutlery (or whatever that was on Boris’ table).

Once they had finished, you collected their bowls and placed them next to the stove. Ushering the two to their beds, you notice some of the ink covering Bendy’s eyes has cleared up slightly.  _ Maybe it’s related to his condition or health? _

Brushing away the thought, you sit down next to a dresser, pulling out some paper and ink from your bag. The paper was really thick, meaning it was likely made for inked concept designs, not animation. That’s good. You draw a little cartoon Bendy in the top-right hand corner, and the current Bendy in the left. After a moment of thinking, you jot down your design. 

If you were going to free these two, Bendy couldn’t look like a monster now, could he?

  
  



End file.
